


Take Me As I Am

by coolincollege



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I will add more tags as I go, M/M, TW Dysphoria, Trans Michael, Trans Michael Mell, can you tell I love to project onto Michael, chubby Michael, food tw, listen you can tear chubby trans michael from my cold dead chubby trans hands, self harm mention???, trans! michael, trans! michael mell, tw internalized transphobia, tw misgendering, tw transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolincollege/pseuds/coolincollege
Summary: Yes the title is a Brooklyn Crush refrence(Previously titled "I don't have a title yet")“She. She. She. She.”"Keep it together, Michael.”The words burned in his mind,”She. She. She.”he felt his chest tighten and his body fill with adrenaline, pulse roaring in his ears. His thoughts quickly become cluttered by the hatred that is surfacing, coursing through him like fire. He wants to scream and claw at his skin till it comes off.Why is it so hard? “Call me HE. IT’S HE.”





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters are gonna be short bc I dunno what else to add n it feels more natural to break it into these sections
> 
> All of this is self-projection so I hope it doesn't sound too out of character oops
> 
> Also if anyone has a title suggestion lemme know

He had just turned in his assignment, surrendering it on the table in the center of the classroom with the rest of the class’ work and returning to his seat at the back of the room. Jeremy doesn’t study art, meaning they were not together this period, and Michael pictured him tapping the end of his chewed pencil on his desk over in chemistry. He craned back on his stool to gaze at Jeremy through the dirty window, spotting him in the chemistry classroom across the stretch of pavement.They had rushed to these seats at the beginning of the year, knowing that they’d be able to see each other, to make the classes they didn’t share more bearable. Michael desperately willed for Jeremy to look up and see him, focusing intently, perhaps he could do some telepathic magic or something and make him turn his head. 

Michael’s daze was interrupted a moment later. “Thank you everyone,” the teacher waved, counting the artworks to ensure everyone had submitted. Scanning the works, she lingers on one, picking out Michael’s to show to the class.

“Look how wonderful this is! Well done.” “See how she’s-”  
Michael’s mind jumps to block her out, vowing he won’t let it affect him this time.  
_“She. She. She. She.”_  
_”Keep it together, Michael.”_  
The words burned in his mind, _”She. She. She.”_ He felt his chest tighten and his body fill with adrenaline, pulse roaring in his ears. His thoughts quickly become cluttered by the hatred that is surfacing, coursing through him like fire. He wants to scream and claw at his skin till it comes off. _Why is it so hard? “Call me HE. IT’S HE.”_

Head bowed and eyes trained on his desk, analysing the dry smears of paint a little too intensely, he can feel the attention of his fellow students on him. He raises his head to absentmindedly meet the teacher’s eyes, who is gazing at him expectantly. Fear and rage boil in his chest at her pleasant smile, completely oblivious. He hopes nobody can see, hopes his face doesn’t look as red as it feels. If only Jeremy were here to correct her. He was so good at that. Despite his own anxiety, Jeremy always corrected people.

Every time Michael is misgendered in class, the noise in his head derails the rest of the lesson, he drops his head again, allowing the ringing inside to consume him, until it is interrupted by the ringing of the bell at the end of the period.

“Thanks Miss,” Michael mumbles as he steps through the door onto the concrete outside. Gazing through the dirty window of the chemistry classroom, he squints in the afternoon sun to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend, but Jeremy is already out of sight, no doubt heading to where they meet after school to await Michael’s arrival there.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boyf riends go to the mall bc Michael is upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love on the last chapter! Again, I hope this isn't too out of character bc I project alot of my feelings haha

Michael reaches their usual meeting spot by the senior courtyard after trudging through campus, fidgeting with the cord of his headphones dangling from around his neck.  
Jeremy’s words interrupt Michael’s thoughts as he embraces him from behind, sliding his hands into the pockets at the front of Michael’s hoodie. “... Are you alright, babe?” It’s a little awkward to lean around his backpack, but Jeremy persists nonetheless.  
Michael is silent.  
“...Micah?”  
All he wants is to lash out, release the rage burning inside him. _“That wouldn’t be fair on Jeremy,”_ he tries to calm himself, his face is hot and tears well in his eyes. As the tears threaten to spill onto his cheeks, realisation crosses Jeremy’s face.  
“Did she- did she do it again?” he questions gently. He knows that Michael’s art teacher makes him dysphoric in some way every single lesson, whether it be a hissed, “girls!” at him murmuring to a classmate, or a “she” while referring to him during a lesson.

Michael nods weakly, feeling Jeremy tighten his grip around his waist to comfort him. Some of the tears spill quietly onto his cheeks.

“Hey.” Jeremy continues, “I can’t undo what she said, but I can- uh- buy you some food?”  
“Alright,” Michael smiles through his watery eyes, turning his head to brush his nose against Jeremy’s cheek. 

Jeremy lifts his right hand to wipe Michael’s tears, brushing his thumb gently under the frame of Michael’s thick glasses. Michael smiles his usual lazy smile, squinting through his clouded glasses at his boyfriend, at those blue eyes, full of kindness and love. 

The two boys intertwine their hands before stepping into the stream of other students leaving school. As they walk to the mall, Michael feels his thoughts calming again. The touch of Jeremy’s hand soothing him, his thumb brushing the side of Michael’s hand. The sound of Jeremy humming and excitedly pointing out the dogs across the street, “ooh Michah! Look at that one!” better than any music Michael could play through his headphones.

The mall is a short walk, and they arrive a few minutes later, stepping through the sliding doors into the bustling food court.

“Hey! It’s your favourite today!” Jeremy hums as he gestures to the sign on the closest counter displaying the special: ‘Nachos - $4.50’ and pulls his wallet from the pocket of his jeans.

The cashier who looks like he’d rather be literally anywhere else raises his eyes to halfheartedly greet his two customers, brushing his shoulder-length hair from his face as he does so.

“Hi,” Jeremy starts awkwardly. “Can we get- a nachos, and uh-” he scans the menu, “a vege taco please?”  
Jeremy pays and the two boys’ fingers tangle together under the counter as the cashier crafts their food and slides it toward them.  
Michael smiles softly, meeting Jeremy’s eyes as he slides the plastic bag towards them as they turn from the counter.  
“Thanks.”  
“No prob.”  
Jeremy knows Michael’s voice still makes him dysphoric, even though it’s already deepened considerably since starting T. He knows Michael hates ordering, _heck, Michael hates speaking to anyone besides Jeremy,_ because cashiers are conditioned to put him into a box, _“have a nice day ma’am.”_ Best to avoid that.

Jeremy scans the tables, settling on one in front of the planter box in the centre of the food court, and tugs at Michael’s free hand, gesturing for him to follow.  
They slide onto the timber seating, sitting opposite each other, shrugging their backpacks onto the floor.  
“Here ya go,” Michael unwraps their food, placing it on the table, handing Jeremy a plastic fork.  
They eat in silence, the sound of trolleys and scuffling feet around them echo off the polished concrete.  
“You ok?” Jeremy interrupted Michael’s daze, reaching across the table to intertwine their fingers.  
Michael is suddenly aware of the tightness in his throat.  
“I’m- I’m still upset about art today. It’s silly I-” he stops himself, embarrassed that so much emotion is held in his shaky voice.  
Jeremy is silent, inviting him to elaborate.  
“I’m just- just so, sensitive? I hate it. I know that’s my internalised transphobia talking. But I wish I didn’t care so much,” he sighs, fidgeting with Jeremy’s fingers.  
Michael can see the pained expression on Jeremy’s face through his clouded glasses.  
“Micah- you know I love your softness, don't let society's ridiculous boxes steal it-” Jeremy tightens his grip on Michael's fingers, “we need people like you in the world.” he rubs his thumb on the back of Michael’s hand, unsure of what else to say. “Come on, let's go home and I'll prove it to you, okay.” Michael raises his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s blue eyes, smiling softly. “Sure.”


	3. Jeremiah Heere is a Furry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dunno this is gay
> 
> also don't forget please bind safely kiddos ok

They fall, squashed together, into one of the beanbags on the concrete floor in front of the television, Jeremy enjoying the warmth of Michael’s body against his slight frame. Michael fumbles with the remote, the TV flickering on to reveal what channel he had left it on last. Tigers on the Discovery channel wrestled playfully, and Jeremy imitates them, making mock tiger noises at Michael, lazily falling across his lap and batting at his jaw. Michael laughs, scrunching up his face and leaning down to kiss the lanky boy in his lap. He bites Jeremy’s lip gently, feeling his boyfriend melt in his lap as he messily cups his face with his big, soft hands. 

Sometimes, Jeremy can't believe this boy is actually his boyfriend. Jeremy Heere _has a boyfriend,_ and an adorable one at that. The way that Jeremy's hands fit on Michaels soft hips like they were made just for him. The way that Michael knows all Jeremy’s ticklish spots. The way that when they kiss, it's hard not to smile too hard, because he feels like his chest might burst with affection for this sweet, soft boy. 

Michael feel his ribs whine in protest as he leans in. He pulls from the kiss, “one sec.” He kisses Jeremy quickly again.“I've had enough binder for today,” he laughs, prying himself from the beanbag to change. 

Walking to his bed, Michael makes a joke of doing a little strip-tease for Jeremy as he takes off his hoodie and plain black t-shirt. He had chosen that one this morning because it hides the neckline of this binder. It’s one of those new gc2b ones, Jeremy bought it for his birthday and he loves it.

Binding is a love-hate relationship. It’s so comforting, makes him feel good, heck, even makes him feel _hot_ sometimes, like he owns his body, just for a little bit. Despite this, it’s physically uncomfortable, Jeremy usually has to remind Michael to be kind to his body, to take breaks, even though he sometimes doesn’t want to. 

Revealing his tan-toned half tank, he tosses the shirt and hoodie on his bed adding to the small pile of clothes that will no doubt turn into a mountain before he begrudgingly decides to do laundry, and turns his back to Jeremy. Jeremy is in awe of his boyfriend’s soft curves, he knows Michael is dysphoric about his body, but Jeremy tries to make him feel at home in it as much as he can.  
Grabbing at the taut fabric to his sides, Michael proceeds to wriggle his binder up over his shoulders and head, discarding it with his t-shirt and reaching for his iconic hoodie, extracting it from the pile.  
_“Woof,”_ Jeremy teases, and Michael laughs as he exhales, pulling the hoodie over his head, letting it quiet the dysphoria that creeps in after removing his safety net.

Michael grabs some snacks and drinks from the mini fridge under his desk- the usual garbage - mostly savory stuff and soda, his favourite. 

Michael joins Jeremy again in the beanbag, dropping down and snuggling in beside him. Jeremy flicks the TV over to the game console, Micahel tossing him an open bag of chips, a handful already stuffed in his mouth. “Mario Kart?” Michael questions, some crumbs falling onto his hoodie. “Sure,” Jeremy snickers, brushing the crumbs from his boyfriend’s chest. _”How does he manage to look that cute even when he talks with his mouth full? Was he never scolded for doing that as a child?”_ he ponders to himself.  
Michael grins and takes a swig of Dr. Pepper, “You know I’m still gonna kick your ass though.” 

The evening ticks by, the usual- snacks, trash-talking through some Mario Kart, some kisses, yelling at various games until they tire and drift to sleep, slumped against each other in their bean bags, Apocalypse of the Damned music droning on the television.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm unfamiliar w American snack foods n beverages so I just used Dr. Pepper bc Michael asks for a Dr. Pepper in a fic I've read haha


	4. Insecurity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello this is yet again, gay
> 
> tw for chest dysphoria in particular in this chapter. The main part starts at "Michael, facing the wall, tugs his red hoodie over his head..." and ends around "Jeremy leaps towards him, banishing the dreary mood..." stay safe n take care of yourselves friends ok

Sun streams in from the high basement window, filling the room with light. Jeremy wakes first, frowning as he blinks sleep away, feeling how tense his neck and back were from falling asleep in the bean bag. Glancing over, Michael has his knees drawn up, feet off the floor, his arm laying across Jeremy’s shoulders. Jeremy takes a moment to marvel at his sleeping boyfriend, glasses askew and a look of utter peace painted across his soft features; partially masked by the ruffled hair that lays on his forehead. Jeremy slides down, leaving Michael’s arm resting on the beanbag and carefully gets up, moving delicately as to try and not make the styrofoam inside shift and wake Michael.

He stretches, long arms almost reaching the low basement ceiling, and tosses a glance at Michael’s bedside clock. The numbers glow ‘7:52 a.m.’ _“Did we really stay up that late to have slept in so much?”_ Jeremy wonders as he locates the remote and turns off the TV, finally silencing the game they had left on the night before. 

He hears Michael stir and turned his head, his neck twinging at the fast movement. “Mooorning,” Michael yawns, rocking himself forward to stretch, his hoodie riding up his back. Jeremy stares, his blue eyes taking in all of his boyfriend, who is practically glowing in the soft morning light that filters in through the dirty window.  
“Aren’t I going to get a good morning kiss?” Michael whines, breaking Jeremy’s daydream with his lopsided smile.  
Jeremy smirks, lazy butterflies in his stomach, and steps back over to Michael, who is now propped up on the beanbag. Michael dwarfs the beanbag with his large frame, whereas Jeremy practically gets eaten by it.  
The two boys press their smiles together in a beaming kiss. Everything is so still, so good, like nothing else matters. Like they don’t have to face school again today. Like they don’t need to worry about finding themselves breakfast in 10 minutes. Like that assignment they’ve been stressing over doesn’t exist.

Jeremy places his hands on the beanbag, either side of Michael’s head, his fingers curling against the rough and worn fabric. This is rather than his usual spot of Michael’s chest, on account of him not currently having a binder on.  
Michael notices this gesture and smiles again into their kiss, he appreciates Jeremy’s awareness of his dysphoria more than he could ever express.

Michael grazes his teeth on Jeremy’s bottom lip before pulling away. “If we wanna make it to school on time we’d better stop smooching and get ready,” Michael laughs, playfully pushing Jeremy with a hand to his chest as they get up from the beanbag.

Jeremy realises he has no clean clothes, as he slept in the previous day’s outfit, _“I usually leave so much clothing at Michael’s by accident that there’s always something to wear,”_ he muses to himself. He finds a pair of his socks folded neatly on Michael’s desk amongst the strewn papers and empty candy wrappers, they’re grey socks with gameboy consoles on them. A gift from Michael that probably doesn’t help his nerd status but he loves all the same. 

Michael notices Jeremy seemingly stumped that he can’t find any more of his own clothes at someone else’s house, “You need to borrow a shirt?” 

“... I think so,” Jeremy replies, taking another glance around the room to double-check.

“Sure, lemme have a look.” 

Michael hums as he saunters over to his dresser and digs for a suitably sized shirt for Jeremy.

He finds a shirt that for some reason he hadn’t given away after growing out of it. Flicking his thumb under the label, he checks the size. Medium, close enough.  
Starting testosterone had significantly increased Michael’s bulk, and he has abandoned all of his pre-T clothing, disliking the way it looked as his torso and arms filled them out, he prefers his shirts larger to help disguise his chest anyway. Lucky he didn’t get rid of this one.

He tosses the shirt at Jeremy, who has shed the one he was previously wearing.  
Michael knows that Jeremy is not all that confident about his body either, always concerned that he was too scrawny and slight to be attractive. Michael definitely doesn’t think so. He gazes at Jeremy in the soft morning light, admiring his pointed features, his long eyelashes, the way his ears stick out, he loves all of him.

“Wearing my boyfriend’s shirt to school? That looks pretty gay doesn’t it?” Jeremy snickers.

“I am gay, buddy,” Michael fires back jokingly. “At least it’s not one of my pride shirts.”

Nobody besides Jeremy ever saw Michael without his hoodie anyway, therefore nobody knew what shirts Michael owns, literally noone would know the shirt was borrowed.

Michael admires his handiwork at finding a shirt that would sort of fit. _“Glad I didn’t give that one away”_ he thought to himself, his heart fluttering at seeing his own shirt hanging off Jeremy’s scrawny frame, the pale blue colour matching the rest of his outfit. There’s something really endearing about seeing Jeremy in it, honestly. “You can keep it.”

“Awe, thanks Micah, you almost ready?”

“Just lemme find a binder and shirt.”

Locating a galaxy print shirt, he tosses it on the bed next to him, finding a clean binder and socks in his dresser as well. 

Michael, facing the wall, tugs his red hoodie over his head to put on his tan gc2b binder. After wrestling into it, he looks down, today is not a good chest day. Some days he feels so good in his binder, other days it does nothing to hide his chest from him. “Fuck’s sake,” he mumbles almost inaudibly, _“and look at your belly.”_ His fingers splay over his stomach, the way it pokes out from under his binder bothering him. He sighs quietly, catching Jeremy’s attention from across the room. 

“You ok?” Jeremy hums, looking up from his phone.  
“I’m fine.” Michael plasters a manufactured smile on his face, Jeremy can tell. It’s not the beaming Michael smile, the one where it seems like you can see every single tooth and his nose crinkles up and his eyes shut tight, the smile reserved just for Jeremy. Nor is it the soft, lopsided, comforting smile, the one that can bring Jeremy down from any panic with its sincerity.

“It’s a bad body day, isn’t it?”  
_”Fuck. This kid knows me too well”_  
“Yeah,” Michael exhales, his tone indicating that he’s too tired for lying about feeling dysphoric right now.

Jeremy leaps towards him, banishing the dreary mood that filled the basement, bringing his face so close to Michael’s that they bump noses before falling into a kiss on Michael’s bed.

“You know what?” He says between kisses, completely disregarding that school starts in 20 minutes. “Let me tell you what I love about your body. And it’s a boy’s body, no matter what you tell yourself or what society tells you.”

“Oh man, Micah, where to begin?” he starts, biting his lip, making Michael blush. 

Running his hands down Michael’s sides, he stops at his hips.  
“Your belly, Michael!” He grins, making Michael blush harder, a little embarrassed at Jeremy picking out one of his known insecurities.

Jeremy leans down and places a kiss to Michael’s stomach, soft and gentle and warm against his skin. Sliding his hands to cup Michael’s waist, he continues to litter kisses across Michael’s stomach, on every stretch mark. He loves the way his hands fit perfectly on the fat on his boyfriend’s hips, the way he knows how to make Michael laugh. Michael loves the way Jeremy knows the rules he has for his body and respects them. He loves the way his hands fit around Jeremy's slender shoulders. It’s like they were made for each other. 

Laying on him, Jeremy running his hands up Michael’s back, meeting the hem of his tank binder and placing his chin on Michael’s chest, they kiss again. Michael exhales under the weight of his boyfriend, conscious of his body being pressed into the mattress, but it feels safe and comforting.

“And Michah! Your--”

A text pings on Michael’s phone and Jeremy sighs, his spiel interrupted.

Michael huffs, trying to arc himself off the bed enough to pull his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, Jeremy realises and rolls off him, landing on Michael’s left, his right arm pinned underneath his boyfriend.

**Message from Crissy; 8:30a.m.: Where are you?? I thought we were all gonna hang before first period?**

“We’d better get going then,” Jeremy laughs, reading the text from his position beside Michael before pushes his boyfriend’s glasses back up his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking this will be the last chapter of this fic, unless I get any requests/prompts to continue! So please do comment if you want me to continue/if you have any ideas of what to do from here! <3 thanks for reading pals

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for reading! I really appreciate kudos n comments! <3


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